


Once a Thief Extras - drabbles, oneshots, and expanded scenes

by Fairia, SaijSpellhart



Series: Once a Thief Always a Thief Collection [2]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Miraculous, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Criminal AU, F/M, sort of a soulmate au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-30
Updated: 2019-08-02
Packaged: 2019-09-02 12:52:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16787326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fairia/pseuds/Fairia, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaijSpellhart/pseuds/SaijSpellhart
Summary: A collection of drabbles and oneshots expanding on the Once a Thief Always a Thief universe. The drabbles and oneshots will follow various characters, and expand on things that happened in the main story, as well a what happens after. Everything here takes place after the events of chapter 24 in Once a Thief.(Includes spoilers for things revealed in chapter 25)





	1. When Alya Finds Out

**Author's Note:**

> There is no linear path for these drabbles and oneshots. Some will happen before or after others. Things revealed in these drabbles, are things hinted at in the main story, but that won’t be explicitly revealed until Chapter 25. Read at your own discretion.
> 
> Some of these drabbles and oneshots will be familiar to you, if you follow my tumblr. or you will recognize them from the writing collab I did in August. Others will be entirely new.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This little drabble was written by Fairia. it was perfect, and I love it.
> 
> This happens between Chapters 24 and 25 of the main fic.

"Hey girl, you ready to order?" Alya asked as the two approached the counter of the coffee shop. 

"Um, sure,” Marinette said uncertainly. She hadn't really wanted to meet here, but when Alya had called her and asked to meet, citing "needing girl time", Marinette hadn't had it in her to refuse. Part of that was guilt - even when Alya assured her it wasn't her fault, she still felt like she'd had a hand in Alya and Nino's struggling relationship - and part of it was... Well, she desperately wanted some girl time, too. Work had been hectic, Tikki was starting to hover, and Félix was... doing whatever he was doing. She needed the normalcy. 

"I'll have a large latte, extra shot, add vanilla syrup please. And a muffin." Alya cheerfully told the girl behind the counter. She turned to Marinette. "You want the usual? My treat." She asked amiably.

Marinette tried not to grimace. She wanted coffee, she really did, but... "I'll just have a green tea, thanks. And a muffin."

"Green tea?" Alya asked with a raised brow as she handed her card to the cashier. "Since when have you drank green tea?"

"I drink tea." Marinette defended. "I drink tea all the time at my parent's house."

"Yeah, but I have never seen you pass up a chance to order a double espresso." Alya argued. "And you look exhausted, so you could probably use the caffeine hit."

"Maybe, but I just felt like tea today." Marinette shrugged, reaching out to accept the cup from the server.

"That's a good one," Alya laughed as she reached for her drink, "What? Are you pregnant or something?"

Marinette fumbled the cup, and it bounced onto the counter, the lid popping off as tea flew everywhere. The sever jumped back, grimacing as droplets of tea splashed onto their apron.

"Oh my gosh, I am so sorry!" Marinette apologized profusely, grabbing some napkins from a nearby dispenser to try to mop up the mess. "I am so, so sorry."

"No big deal," the server waver her off, snatching up a towel to begin wiping up the mess. "At least it was just water and a tea bag - when it's sticky sweet coffee, THEN it's annoying."

Sheepishly, Marinette handed the sodden napkins to the server, who winked and handed her a fresh cup. 

"Oh, are you- are you sure?" Marinette asked hesitantly. "I can pay for it."

"No big deal, it's just water and a tea bag." The server said nonchalantly. "Congratulations on your pregnancy!"

"Oh. Um, thanks." Marinette mumbled, turning to look at Alya, who hadn't moved during the exchange. "Are you alright? I didn't spill tea on you, did I?"

"You're pregnant," Alya blurted out. "I mean, I was joking, but you ARE, aren't you? You're actually pregnant."

Marinette blinked at her, raising the cup to her lips to stall for time as she considered what to do, then grimacing when she realized it was just hot water.

"Excuse me." Somebody said behind them, and Marinette jumped, realizing that they were still standing at the counter. Murmuring apologies, she grabbed her tea bag and followed a still-stunned Alya to the table. 

"Ummm..." Marinette fiddled with her cup, dunking the tea bag into the hot water and watching it intently, avoiding her friend's mute stare. She hadn't been sure how to break the news to Alya, but she knew she hadn't wanted to do it like this. "Surprise?" She said weakly.

Alya blinked, her expression shifting from mute shock to sardonic amusement. "Girl," she said wryly, "you'd better start talking."


	2. Plagg’s First Attempt at Friendship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This happens between Chapters 24 and 25 of the main fic.

It had been a long week. A long awkward week filled with enthusiastic congratulations and awkward inquires. Tikki had been one of the worst, hovering over her firing off question after question, and already making plans for Marinette's pregnancy leave.

The first thing she did was forbid Marinette from working long hours anymore. Or lifting, _any_ kind of lifting. Juleka was instructed to keep an eye on her and make sure she didn't try to pick up anything heavier than a book. Acting like a keeper rather than an assistant.

Not that Marinette was terribly far along. She had just started showing, and her boss must've had a sixth sense about it... either that or Alya talked.

All the attention and fawning would've been acceptable, if not a bit annoying, had it not come hand in hand with questions about the baby's father. Everyone wanted to know who the father was and _where_ he was. And it's not like she could tell them the truth.

Marinette eased open the top drawer of her desk where her purse sat atop the rest of the clutter inside. From her purse she pulled a gold bell, it was still attached to a velvet choker. Only when she was alone would she put it on and just remember. She turned the bell over in her hand, then shook it in vain, knowing that it would ring only silence.

Her mind involuntarily wandered back to the night he gave her the bell.

"This princess doesn't entertain wanted men..." She set her jaw to keep it from trembling, and clutched the bell in her fist. "I miss you."

00

Félix stepped away from her door. He spared a look at the green smoothie, and turned the cup in his hand indecisively. His features darkened to a scowl, but he couldn't bring himself to knock and disturb her private moment.

 _I miss him too,_ he answered, but only to himself. _He was an absolute pain in the ass... but he was also my best friend._

That was what the smoothie was for though. If he were being honest he didn't know or like Marinette enough to try and become her friend, but she was precious to Adrien and now she was having his kid. There wasn't anything he could do for his partner now, except look out for his kid. So Félix swore on his soul to take care of them, and that meant making sure Marinette stayed healthy.

He sucked in a breath, raised a hand, hesitated only once more, then knocked on the doorframe to her office.

Marinette jerked up straight and dropped a small shiny object into her desk drawer before slamming it shut. She snapped her head around to look at him, and he could see the redness around her eyes from struggling back tears. "Félix," she greeted attempting to sound pleased by his unexpected presence. "Can I help you with anything?"

"Actually," he started, trying to sound more enthusiastic about the gesture than he was. "I picked you up a smoothie." He held out the suspiciously green drink, that had far too many vegetables in it to be simply a kind gesture.

"Oh." She looked stunned, but after a moment she reached out and accepted the smoothie from him. "Thank you?"

Her gratitude spoken in question made Félix realize how out of character the gesture was. Their office relationship had always been more teasingly antagonistic and full of snide and sarcastic jabs. He'd never given her anything before without it benefitting him in some way.

"I noticed you skipped lunch." He started, and this was true, she had skipped lunch. "I figured you were probably hungry, and uhhh... smoothies are easy on the stomach."

She blinked at him curiously.

Félix attempted to clarify. "Ya know since you're..." He gestured to his own stomach and trailed off.

"In case I'm having trouble keeping anything down?"

"Yeah, that."

Marinette finally smiled at him. It never reached her eyes, and there was still something lost about it, but it was a step up from the verge of tears she'd been on before. "Thank you, Félix." She brought the straw to her lips and took a drink. He almost missed her subtle nose wrinkle at the taste.

Félix smirked and stifled a snort of amusement, "Enjoy that drink, boss."

This time Marinette really did make a face, but it was at him and his snide remark.

 _This is a start,_ he decided.


	3. Marinette Decides on a Name

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was posted on Tumblr awhile back.
> 
> This happens between Chapters 24 and 25 of the main fic.

Félix watched Marinette ease down onto a kitchen chair, and breath a sigh of relief. She was eight months along, nearing the end of her pregnancy and it seemed her grouchiness had grown in tandem with her stomach.

"Now aren't you glad we went for a walk?" He asked, moving to the kitchen to pour a glass of water.

Marinette grimaced and adjusted in the chair, trying to ease some of the pain and uncomfortable pressure. "No, dammit. My back aches like crazy."

Félix brought her the glass of water, but Marinette waved it away impatiently.

"No I don't want water, I have to pee."

He bit back a suffering sigh, and pursed his lips. "Drink the water first, then I'll help you get up so you can use the bathroom."

Marinette eyed the distance to the bathroom, fidgeted on the chair as if she were contemplating just getting up by her own power, before wincing and begrudgingly accepting the water. She took a generous gulp and ignored Félix's usual condescending expression.

He waited patiently for her to finish the water, his short stubby fingers tapping against the counter.

"Thank you for coming over here to help me on such short notice. I know you had work today, but Alya got tied up and I didn't want to call my parents again." She held out the empty glass.

Félix felt his facial muscles relax, and he took the cup; walking it to the sink where he washed it out so she wouldn't see how much he'd gone soft. "You don't need to apologize every time you ask for my help. I don't mind helping... and it's an easy way to get on Tikki's good side.

Marinette giggled at him. "Tikki really likes to pester you."

"That woman's a nightmare." He grimaced and set the glass in the strainer.

"But she buys you that cheese you like."

"Her one saving grace." He muttered, drying his hands on a towel. He turned and smirked at Marinette, "Alright, let's get your ass out of that chair."

Marinette grasped Félix's wrist and let him hoist her up into a standing position. She gasped and clutched her stomach a second later, her other hand griping his arm almost painfully.

"Too fast?"

"No," she assured. "The baby kicked."

He waited for her to recover and straighten back up, stepping back to give her space once her death grip on his arm relaxed. "Tell her to knock it off, she's too early."

Marinette laughed and started hobbling for the bathroom. "I try but she listens about as well as her father did."

Félix stamped down the bubbling of emotion at the mention of the child's father. He never asked about the father, partly because he already knew who the father was, so it wasn't a matter of satisfying his curiosity. But he also didn't ask because Marinette already had everybody and their brother mining her for answers, and he promised himself to be that one person (aside from Alya) who didn't press her for information like that. As a result, Marinette had grown to appreciate his company as a close second to her best friend's. Enough to let her guard down and mention Adrien from time to time.

 _The things I do for you, kid._ He swallowed down thoughts of his partner because they only festered the depression he felt. "So when are you going to name the little chest burster? Or are you still stuck on a name?"

Marinette paused at the bathroom door and wrinkled her nose at his clever nickname for the baby. "I think I've decided on Isabelle."

"That's pretty." Félix said as Marinette closed the door. He brought his hand to his chin, and bit at the mustache he'd started to grow. He mumbled the name a few times, and decided he liked the way it sounded. Something about the name felt familiar though.

Then he remembered the gold bell Marinette always carried around in her purse. He'd seen her turning that bell over and over in her hands when she'd been in her office and still working. Even now she kept it close, and he'd occasionally see her with it, staring at it with a longing look so acute it made his own chest hurt out of sympathy.

And Félix was no fool, he recognized that damned bell. He knew it belonged to Adrien. He'd listened to his partner crow about how cleverly he'd given Marinette that bell.

_That damned bell._

"Son of a bitch! Her name's a bloody pun!"


	4. Alya Has Enough

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fairia wrote this drabble too.
> 
> This happens between Chapters 24 and 25 of the main fic.

The door slamming was what woke Marinette from her doze on the couch. She turned automatically, ready to scold whoever had done it, but drew up short at the sight of Alya's tear-streaked face.

"Alya," She murmured, automatically rocking the rousing baby, who had started at the loud noise, "what's wrong?"

"I…" Alya's lip trembled, and she glanced away, looking around the room blankly for a second before meeting Marinette's concerned gaze again. "I... broke up with Nino."

"Alya…" Marinette breathed, shifting her sleeping daughter and reaching for her friend, heedless of the way the baby started to fuss. With a choked sob, Alya dropped her purse in the entryway and dove into her embrace, dislodging her glasses as she wrapped her arms around Marinette's waist and sobbed brokenly against her shoulder. Isabelle snuffled, fussing and squirming as her nap was disturbed.

"And- and now I'm scaring the baby," Alya whimpered, swallowing harshly. "What is wrong with me?"

Marinette shook her head. She couldn't say she hadn't seen this coming - things had been too tense, too off-kilter, between Alya and her fiancé for months now. But it still hurt, and Marinette's heart ached for her best friend, and her ex-fiancé. They loved each other, she was sure of it, but neither were moving past all of the stuff that had accumulated between them. Every fight resulting in an unresolved mess.

"Nothing is wrong with you." She said adamantly, ignoring the twinge of guilt in her chest - _this_ _would_ _never_ _have_ _happened_ _if_ _she_ _and_ _Adrien_ _hadn't_ … Marinette shook her head again, purposefully dislodging the familiar train of thought. _What_ _was_ _done_ _was_ _done_ , _there_ _was_ _no_ _taking_ _it_ _back_ _and_ , she thought, sneaking a glance at her now-awake and quietly fussing child, _I_ _wouldn't_ _want_ _to_ , _even_ _if_ _I_ _could_.

"Nothing is wrong with you," she repeated firmly. "Isabelle is a baby. She cries all the time - it's what she does. But you don't. So tell me what happened, and how I can help."

"I don't think you can," Alya murmured. "I don't think anyone can do anything. I just… I can't trust him. He lied about his job for so long, he used you to get his job done, he… I just, I can't trust what he says. How do I know he's telling me the truth?"

Marinette squeezed her friend's shoulders consolingly. _God_ did she know and understand the conflict Alya was struggling with. _Trust, manipulation, secrets, lies —_ all things that came as a packaged bundle with Adrien. "Nino loves you, Alya. He does."

"I know." Alya admitted. "And I… I love him too. But it's just not enough."

"What do you need?" Marinette asked gently. She couldn't refute her friend's words - her own life was proof of their truth, even if their situations were vastly different. She couldn't tell her it would be alright, or make things better. All she could do was comfort her in the aftermath.

"I need this," Alya said, laying her head on Marinette's shoulder and reaching out to trail a fingertip down Isabelle's tiny cheek. "Just… this, here. Let's just hang out, okay?"

"I can't drink," Marinette mused, "and I'm not doing sushi again, but I've got a lot of bad movies and some badass pizza-ordering skills."

Alya laughed, and it was watery and broken, but Marinette still counted it as a win. "I'll take it."


	5. Adrien’s phone call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This happens between Chapters 24 and 25 of the main fic.

Everywhere he went there were eyes.

_Watching, watching, watching._

But he was used to the watching, wasn't he? He'd been a model for his father's company ever since he was a boy. There had always been someone watching him, Nathalie, his driver, the housing staff.

When he'd been working he'd been watched. Artists, designers, store owners, adoring fans, _everyone_ watching him on and off the stage. All eyes on him, he was the face of the company after all. The facade of Gabriel's perfect little poster boy stuck so tightly that it might as well have been stitched over skin.

It was only when he was Chat Noir that no one had been watching.

That was when he could hide the facade and become one with the shadows. When he could become something that wasn't Adrien Agreste. And for awhile it had been liberating. A high more addicting that any drug, but an escape just as dangerous.

Chat was freedom.

But Chat was its own facade too.

One that caught up with him.

And now he was watched again, albeit for different reasons.

Adrien gave an amiable nod to the prison guard whose eyes were trained on him. The guard responded in kind, but never looked away. A released sigh, and Adrien picked at the orange fabric of his uniform. _A necessary precaution,_ he supposed. He was a former thief after all, a cat burglar. He had been infamous for getting into places he didn't belong, and getting out of situations tighter than a cock ring. Of course he would be kept under constant scrutiny, on the off chance that he tried to escape.

But he never did. What was the point anyway? He didn't want to go back to being Adrien, and being Chat would just put him on the run again.

 _But you_ are _Adrien. You never stopped being Adrien. You just covered it up and played more pretend._

He clenched his fists and bit back the simmering frustration. Forcing himself to pick the telephone off the cradle.

The sting of the cold plastic cleared his head. The anger giving way to terror, and suddenly his hands were shaking. All he could do was stare dumbly at the filthy numeric pad before him.

The shifting of an impatient guard reminded him that he was on a time limit.

Adrien raised his left hand and tapped in a series of numbers.

"Hey... Love," he started, swallowed hard, and let out a breath. "I know it's been awhile."

He was silent for a moment, playing with the hem of his sleeve.

"I'm not sure why I called. I-I just really wanted to hear your voice," he said before falling silent again, just cradling the phone against his ear.

"Mon Dieu, I miss your smile. I miss you, I miss..." Adrien scrubbed his face, before pressing his forehead against the wall. "I know you probably don't want to hear any of this but, I'm still in love with you. More than anything else I... I'd like to see you again..."

He set his jaw, then added, "If you'd let me," before returning the phone to its cradle.

For a whole minute he just stood there in silence, fists curled so tightly that his knuckles turned white. Adrien peeled himself from the wall, let out a defeated groan, and started for the exit where a guard waited for him.

"Did you actually call her this time?" the waiting guard asked, sporting an expression of sympathy.

"No," He admitted, his posture reflecting his shame. He shoved his hands into his pockets and waited for the guard to open the door. "I chickened out again."


	6. Adrien’s first time babysitting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You’ll recognize this one if you’ve read the oneshot collection I did with a bunch of other writers called, Purrrfect For You.
> 
> I’ve revised this one a bit. Changed a few minor things to make it work with another drabble I want to post. I also edited it a bit more.
> 
> This happens after chapter 25 of the main fic.

* _Crunch*_

Something hard gave way under Adrien's foot.

It was enough to startle him, stumbling back like a newborn deer. He hoped to god he didn't step on anything that belonged to Marinette, only to crush something cold and wet underneath his heel.

He slapped the wall several times, fumbling to locate the light switch and fearing the worst.

 _Cheerios._ His eyes tracked the crumbs farther back. _And that's a grape._

The sigh of relief he released could be felt all the way to his toes—which were now covered in Cheerio crumbs.

Adrien called down the hall, his voice carrying through the rest of the apartment. "You'd better be hiding good, cause I'm gonna find you, Little Bell." Then he bent down, and began plucking pieces of Cheerio out of the carpet, scooping the pulpy remains of the grape into his palm.

A little girl's giggle was his only answer.

He had just dumped the handful of food remains into the trash when a text alert caused his cell phone to vibrate.

' _Hey, kid. You sure you got this?"_ It was from Plagg, it was actually his second text asking if Adrien needed help.

The response Adrien typed up was more than a little acerbic, it was borderline asinine. Plagg didn't even deserve his scathing text response, especially after everything his partner did for Marinette and Isabelle while he was gone.

And it was fortunate that Adrien's new mentor at Interpol, Quinn, had chosen that exact moment to shoot him a new text message. Thus interrupting Adrien from sending his, and quite possibly making a huge emotionally driven mistake.

' _Agent Lahiffe says you took the weekend off to spend with your little girl. Good luck. You got this.'_

Adrien closed that text, and rather than replying to either, he deleted the bitter draft from before.

When Marinette told him that she would have to work a Saturday, Adrien pulled all the strings in his arsenal, and made all the biggest kitten eyes at Nino, until his handler caved and gave him the weekend off. Then it was only a matter of convincing Marinette to let him babysit for the day, without Félix. _Successful_.

He cast a look at the living room coffee table where an empty plate sat, kept company by a ladybug-themed sippy-cup, and his lukewarm unfinished coffee.

It was a reminder of snack-time, one that had him smiling despite himself.

_Isabelle had insisted that he needed to have a plate of grapes. Even when he’d told her he was fine, she’d been adamant that he had to eat grapes too. All the while she’d only took two out of the bag, one for each hand, and had popped them all in her mouth at the same time._

_Adrien had complied, assembling a plateful of green grapes, before following his daughter out to the living room. They’d taken a seat on the floor in front of the coffee table, a cartoon playing on the television, and Isabelle's face stuck to her sippy-cup much like a suckermouth fish on the side of a fish tank. He’d watched her for a minute, endeared by the way she held the cup and the funny noises she’d made._

_Then he he’d reached out to grab some of the fruit-_

_Isabelle had slammed down the cup, mimicking the way he set down his coffee mug, only_ harder. _Then grabbed the plate of grapes and had hauled it away, corralling them between her arms._

" _Aren't you going to share with me?"_

_She’d looked at the plate, then up at him, then back down at the plate. Without looking up again she’d picked a single grape off the plate and placed it in front of him next to the coffee mug._

" _Just one?"_

_Isabelle tilted her head back, meeting his wheatgrass eyes with her own, and he’d been reminded again that she was the spitting image of him. She’d nodded diplomatically, as if she'd already been more than generous. Then shoved a handful of the grapes in her own mouth._

Adrien pulled himself back in the moment, he was going to have some cute stories to tell Marinette when she got home.

"Alright, Isabelle. Time's up, and I'm gonna find you." This time his declaration into the apartment was met with silence. Adrien pocketed the cell phone and started the search for his daughter.

The first few places he checked were the most obvious: under the bed, behind the shower curtain, in the bedroom closet. She was nowhere to be found.

_Clever little girl._

Next he checked behind Marinette's work station, under the sink, in the laundry bins. _No Isabelle._

He was sure she hadn't slipped passed him and into the living room or kitchen. But he checked those all the same. _All hiding places clearly absent of little two year olds._ It wasn't even as if Marinette's apartment was very big, just a one bedroom.

Marinette really needed a new place. Her old apartment was becoming too cramped for her and the steadily growing Isabelle. Was it too soon to ask her to get a place with him? Would she let him buy her a place? A condo perhaps? 

_She couldn't have gone outside..._

Adrien checked the front door, relieved to find the deadbolt still intact. If the little girl had unlocked the door and escaped, the locks wouldn't still be locked.

_She's still in the apartment, Adrien. She's fine. You're Chat Noir for fuck's sake, you can find a little girl in a one bedroom apartment._

The next ten minutes were spent practically overturning the apartment. Anywhere he could think he checked, his anxiety made worse by the panic settling over him.

"Mon Dieu, Marinette is going to kill me."

How could a little girl go missing _that_ quickly.

"Isabelle!" He began calling for her in earnest. " _Isabelle,_ where are you?"

Deciding that finding his daughter was more important than staying in Marinette's good graces, he began dismantling her furniture. Cupboard innards extracted, drawers popped out of place, all the shoes in her closet were now strewn over the floor. Her yarn bin overturned. He even disemboweled the laundry hamper.

Eventually Adrien worked his way to the linens closet. Starting at the bottom and working his way to the top, he pulled all the sheets, blankets, and towels out. Placing them in haphazard stacks on the floor.

It wasn't until he reached the very top that his hands brushed against something big and warm... and kinda wet, but sticky, _definitely_ sticky. Something that had little to no business being at the top of a linens closet behind a stack of fluffy winter blankets.

A normal human might have rushed to grab a chair, or a stool, or even a small step ladder.

Adrien was not a normal human, not really. Years of practice getting into places he didn't belong, and breaking into secured locations meant that scaling the doorframe of a closet was second nature to him.

Feet braced against the sill, Adrien boosted himself until his head was level with the top shelf and peered into the back.

"How in God's name did you get all the way up here?" His sigh of relief was so loud, it was a miracle he didn't wake the child.

Isabelle was non-responsive, curled on her side, thumb hanging out of her open mouth, and face smooshed against the shelf in a puddle of drool.

 _And that would explain why she felt all wet._ The stickiness he surmised was probably from the grapes she'd been playing with earlier. She was out harder than a black-out, and considering she'd been hiding in a closet behind stacks of blankets, Adrien really couldn't fault her for not hearing his calls.

He was so very careful, reaching in with hands practiced in the art of moving things without disturbing them. She barely made a murmur when he cradled her against his chest.

Careful not to jostle her, he adjusted his grip on the doorframe, feet sliding down the sill to land gracefully against the floor.

Adrien ignored the mess of blankets, only bothering to shut off the closet light. Rather than carry her through the house, he settled in the bottom of the linens closet, where there was enough space for a seated adult.

There, in the safety and tranquility of the enclosed space, he held Isabelle. The anxiety and stress from before melting away at the sight of the passed out toddler in his arms. He felt drained. With the panic wearing off, all he wanted to do was hold his child.

_His daughter._

Because he had been foolish enough to pursue Marinette, despite his status as a wanted criminal and her's as a museum curator. Because he'd fallen so hard for her he could no longer see straight, even when he couldn't admit it to himself. And because she’d let him into her heart (and bed) despite every reason not to.

He brushed his fingers through Isabelle's unruly blonde bangs.

"I don't regret it for the world," he whispered, paused, then thought better. "Well... sans a couple of events. I would've been happier had your mother never gotten stabbed," he amended.

Adrien let his head rest against the back wall, fondly recalling bits of the past and how it led to his life now.

It wasn't a fairy tale. He wasn't free to settle down, and although still madly in love with each other, trust was still an issue between him and Marinette. They'd both done a number on the other's trust. Plagg continued to be Isabelle's favorite person, second only to Marinette; which made it a chore for Adrien, as he tried to find his place in his daughter's heart.

Work kept him away, busy with Interpol. Marinette's job made finding time together even more difficult. He wasn't even sure what their relationship was at this point. She'd never called him her boyfriend, and he hadn't dared ask. Savoring only what he was given. It was enough, he thought, just to have _this._ This opportunity to have a family, albeit a bit broken.

Moments like this, with his daughter— _his daughter—_ cradled peacefully on his lap.

"Maybe one day... I'll ask her to marry me, and she'll say yes."

...

Marinette came home that evening, and nearly had a heart attack.

Her apartment looked as if marauders had ransacked the place, from the overturned furniture to cupboard supplies strewn all over the floor. She tracked the mayhem, with stiletto heel in hand and ready, down the hall towards the bedrooms. Where she very nearly tripped over a pair of legs sticking out of the base of her linens closet.

It was everything she had to clap a hand over her mouth, and keep from crying in surprise. Affection bubbling up, and choking in the back of her throat.

There, sitting in the base of the closet, was Chat— _Adrien_ , with Isabelle curled up on his lap, asleep, her head pillowed against his arm.

She cast another look around her destroyed apartment, and bit her tongue. Tossing the stiletto aside, she crawled into the space next to them; not the least bit surprised when Adrien threw his free arm around her, and held her close.

He'd probably been awake the moment she entered the front door.

"Welcome home, Chérie."

"Hmmm," she hummed against his shoulder, relaxing into the embrace after the long day she'd had. "We are going to have a talk about what you did to my home while I was gone. But that can wait for now."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one will go with another drabble I’m working on where Adrien proposes finding Marinette a new/bigger place to live.


	7. Gifts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrien comes home late from working with Agent Lahiffe, and takes a moment to admire his lady love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place after the events of Chapter 25 in the main fic.

"Look at her..."

Marinette groaned and pulled the pillow over her head.

"I would die for her."

She wondered if ignoring him would make him shut up and crawl in bed.

"I would kill for her."

"Oh no you won't." She rolled over and sent her pillow flying at his face.

Naturally he caught it before it could make contact with nose of his mask. Denied even the satisfaction of hearing it hit his stupidly handsome face.

"Either way, what bliss."

"You shut up. It's too early to place what movie you're quoting at me." She buried her face in the other pillow and dragged the comforter up around her shoulders. It was still early, couldn't have been later than 5am. What was the point of taking a day off if she couldn't even sleep in and enjoy it?

" _Dude, just let her sleep."_

Chat's playful chuckle moved from the doorway, and even though she couldn't hear his footsteps, she still felt the edge of the bed depress when he sat down.

"Who the hell are you even talking to?"

"I'm video chatting with Lahiffe. We were admiring your angelic form while you slept."

" _I was not! I promise you Marinette, I had my eyes closed the entire time. I may be single right now, but I'm not a creeper like your_ cat _sonova here."_

"Why are you video chatting in my room..." she reached out and checked her cell on the nightstand. "At 5:37 A—fracking—M?"

" _It_ was _a voice chat, and it started out in the living room,"_ Nino defended. " _We were_ _going over the some number's in one of Gabriel's company accounts and why they are suspicious given where he was supposed to be two months ago. About three minutes into the conversation, Master Thief here stopped paying attention and turned on video to ogle at you."_

"Why are you in that suit? Please tell me you weren't breaking into someplace tonight."

"Reconnaissance," Chat explained. "I was on a roof spying on a party for Lahiffe."

Satisfied with that answer she turned her attention back to the issue at hand, "I could have been naked, Adrien."

She heard the thud of one of his soft-soled boots hitting the floor. It was soon followed by another. "Nonsense," Chat hummed, a clicking sound alerting her that he'd unbuckled his belt. "You only sleep naked after I've thoroughly ravaged your body."

" _That's it, I'm out. You two have a nice weekend together. Say hello to Isabelle for me."_

With that the phone suddenly beeped, signaling that Nino had hung up.

Marinette heard the clatter of tools as Chat laid his belt down on the second nightstand.

"Where is my little Bell anyway?"

She rolled over to face him, and followed his gaze to the little toddler sized bed on the other side of the room. There was something wordless written on his face as he stared at the bed, his eyes eventually wandering away to survey the confines of the rest of the crowded bedroom. Eventually he settled on her and his expression softened, the look from before giving way to smoldering appreciation.

"She stayed the night with my Mama and Papa. Mama is supposed to bring her by at noon so she can spend the rest of the day with you." Marinette noted the flickering of relief that flashed behind his eyes and she had a inkling it had to do with Félix.

"Good, I brought her a present." He peeled the mask off his face, scrubbing some of the adhesive residue with his sleeve.

Marinette had to stifle a chuckle at the black make-up still painted around his eyes. "You know you don't have to buy her affection with extravagant presents, Adrien. She'll warm up to you just as long as you keep spending time with her."

Adrien released a suffering sigh, and his whole posture seemed to crumple in on itself. "Speaking of extravagant things..."

"Please tell me you didn't get her something ridiculous," she groaned and buried her face back in the pillow, " _again_."

"No, no," Adrien assured, unbuckling his cuffs and pulling off his gloves. "Well, nothing too ridiculous."

" _Chat."_

"This is about you actually." He seemed to dither for a moment grasping at words before adding in a lower tone. "...about _us."_

She took a sharp breath, and against her sensible side her mind started jumping to all the possible possibilities.

"I want to buy you a bigger place. A _much_ bigger place. ...With me—Or without me," he quickly added. "It doesn't have to be with me. I just want you and Isabelle to have your own rooms, and bathrooms, and sewing room, and—"

"Wait wait wait." Marinette cut off his rambling. "Are you asking me to rent a place with you?"

"Well I already bought it." He said sheepishly.

"What do you mean _bought?_ You bought us a house?"

"Well I'm not disgustingly rich anymore," he lamented. "So you'll have to settle for a mansion... made of _smaller_ mansions."

"Chat— _fucking—_ Adrien Agreste!"

"One of your more forbidden fantasies I'm sure," he grinned devilishly.

She sat up and socked him in the ribs.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" He playfully threw up his hands and flinched away from her fist in case she tried to strike him again. "It's a condo actually. The whole 12th floor. I own the building, but it's under one of Félix's pseudonyms, so my Father doesn't know its associated with me. It's got a personal elevator that leads straight down to a private parking garage."

Marinette sat back in shock and attempted, _and failed_ , to process this information.

"I understand if you don't want to live with me, and I accept that. I don't want to guilt you into it. _Please,"_ he said with complete sincerity. "I just want to do something nice for you and Isabelle. I know you've never accepted anything from me, but I promise you this is a gift paid for with honest money. I just—"

She cut him off, taking a fistful of his ridiculously long hair and yanking him in for a searing kiss.

The tension in Adrien's shoulders dissolved like cotton candy in a river, and with a starved groan he melted into her body.

Her other hand gripped the side of his face, thumb brushing his ear piercing, and he cupped her hand with his own. He pressed her further into the blankets, kissing her until the breath ran thin in his lungs. His mind racing from lack of oxygen or excitement, he didn't care which.

He broke away to murmur against her lips, "Please tell me that was a 'yes' kiss and not an 'I'm so angry at you I can't speak' kiss."


	8. Félix and Isabelle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Félix and Isabelle have a heart to heart chat about shared trauma.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This drabble was mostly by Fairia. 
> 
> Isabelle is a little older in this one and in grade school.

"What's a matter with you, kid?" Félix frowned at the young lady sitting next to him.

Isabelle prodded her scoop of gelato despondently, mouth twisting in a grimace. "Nothing."

The odd pair sat together in a small coffee shop, seated next to each other in a booth tucked away in the corner. The two idly watching people pass by the side window, comfortable watching the busy city pass them by.

Over the years Plagg had become Isabelle's Godfather, or pseudo uncle. She usually just called him her uncle, despite there being no blood relation. Félix liked that just fine. On days like this he often took her out for lunch, and listened to her babble on about school and friends.

"Doesn't look like nothing," Félix replied, nodding to the waitress as she handed his café Americano across the table to him.

Isabelle had to contain a smile as her Uncle casually slipped a flask out of his pocket, adding a generous splash of liquor to his coffee before capping the silver container and settling it back into his jacket. Her Mama would be irate if she saw him doing that... The thought of her mother made her grimace again.

"Yeah, that's not nothing," Félix commented, sipping his coffee with a happy sigh. "Spill, Kitten."

"Ugh." Isabelle tossed her spoon with a clatter. She heaved a groan before dropping her head onto her Uncle's shoulder with the familiar dramatic flare of her father. Félix's mustache twitched, but he was otherwise silent as he waited for her to confess.

"There was no swim practice yesterday," Isabelle announced, staring up at him mournfully.

Félix's eyebrow quirked. "Sounds awful."

"It WAS!" Isabelle insisted a bit too loudly. "Because I got home EARLY."

"That's horrible," Félix deadpanned.

"You wouldn't be so mean if you'd gotten the same eyeful I did!" Isabelle hissed. "Mama and Papa were NOT expecting me home. I saw my Papa's _BUTT_ ," she hissed the last part in whisper that wasn't really as quiet as she was hoping.

Félix snorted, thinking back to the museum security feed he'd hacked over a decade earlier and the _things_ that had happened in Marinette's office. "Hate to break it to you kid, but you're not exactly alone in that trauma."

Isabelle looked appalled. Gaping at him like a fish, "You've seen Papa's butt too?!"

He shuddered like a survivor of war, "And more."

Wordlessly, Isabelle reached into his jacket pocket and handed her Uncle his flask.

"You're a good kid, Kitten." Félix said, dumping another splash of amaretto into his coffee. Lips quirking, he tipped a few drops of the sweet liquor onto her chocolatey treat before holding the flask aloft in solemn salute. "To trauma."

"To trauma," Isabelle parroted, holding up a scoop of liquored gelato. "You know," she added as she stuck the spoon into her mouth, "Papa is gonna kill you for corrupting me."

"Whatever," Félix snorted. "Sounds like they're doing a better job than I ever could, anyway."


End file.
